Serpent-woman/woods-witch logs!!
My NPCs were more just peripherally involved with the Elina plot until later on, but eventually Yasin ended up speaking with Aizana-of-the-pawn-shop about the sinister woman of the woods.
* * * * *
You see a thin woman with an uncanny amber gaze whom you recognize as you.
You are your own height, and appear to be of Ilexian and Rovara heritage. You have liquid amber eyes, lightly tanned skin, and cinnamon brown hair in a loose chignon with escaping tendrils.
Looking to be descended from mixed Ilexian and Rovara heritage, this woman is of average height with a slender frame verging on leanness. She has coarsely textured cinnamon brown hair with the hint of a wave in it, and her delicately arched nose and slightly downturned mouth are set within a heart-
shaped face accented by sharp cheekbones. A faint pallor lies beneath her lightly tanned skin, and a smudge of shadow below her eyes. Her most striking feature, those eyes have a faintly exotic tilt to them and are an extraordinary shade of liquid amber, framed by thick dark-chestnut lashes. Her exact age is elusive, but she looks to be in her late teens or early twenties.
You have no visible wounds.
You are wearing: a maroon calico kerchief knotted loosely at the side of the head, a striped couranty shawl with a long ragged fringe, an undyed light woolen cloak, a front-laced burgundy corduroy bodice over a rust-colored gingham shift, a multicolored patchwork skirt, an assortment of tarnished metal anklets, and a black cotton drawstring pouch.
[St Loomis, Silver Street Wagonyard]
A large thatched lean-to structure with low stone walls stands at the western edge of the wagonyard, against the town's exterior wall. Numerous sturdy hitching posts line the edges of the yard, and an asortment of wheels, axles, and other half-finished or partly destroyed wagon components crowd the foot of the wall. But otherwise the bluff on which the yard sits is just a flat and rather empty expanse of thin, stony soil, often pitted with holes made by puddles from previous rains.
A twisted log of cragpine rests along one side of the yard.
Warm rain falls steadily from overcast skies.
Cardinal Exits: east
Other: an open, thatch-roofed stone structure: wooden gate (open)
The sea forms a glimmering line off to the south, past the edge of the bluff and beyond a tumble of buildings.
You peer towards the open wooden gate...
[St Loomis, Silver Street Wagonyard, Wagonwright & Farrier]
This wide, utilitarian shack is composed of low stone walls that abut the exterior wall of St Loomis on the west. Heavy log posts support a plank-framed roof that boasts fresh-bound thatch, lightly fragrant in the damp air. Large enough to accommodate a few horses and an entire wagon, this workshop is clearly designed with blacksmithing in mind. Several iron-rimmed wagon wheels hang against the solid western wall, along with a row of perfectly curved horseshoes. Above the forge, much of the recent thatch has already become singed and coated with soot.
A battered wooden crate is tucked along the northern wall. A pile of 2 dark-grey metal ingots is near a heavy anvil. A pile of 4 dark-grey metal ingots has been placed near a heavy anvil. An earthenware vinegar jug is on a shelf along the northern wall. (x2) An iron-banded wooden pail is near the northern wall, smelling of vinegar.
A towering, bearded blacksmith is standing near a dark sizeable iron forge. A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is standing near a heavy anvil, wielding a heavy forging hammer in his right hand and an impeccable iron pair of forging tongs in his left hand.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: out: wooden gate (open)
A forceful warm breeze gusts through the rain, pushing it in drenching sheets across the world.
You walk into an open, thatch-roofed stone structure through the wooden gate.
[St Loomis, Silver Street Wagonyard, Wagonwright & Farrier]
This wide, utilitarian shack is composed of low stone walls that abut the exterior wall of St Loomis on the west. Heavy log posts support a plank-framed roof that boasts fresh-bound thatch, lightly fragrant in the damp air. Large enough to accommodate a few horses and an entire wagon, this workshop is clearly designed with blacksmithing in mind. Several iron-rimmed wagon wheels hang against the solid western wall, along with a row of perfectly curved horseshoes. Above the forge, much of the recent thatch has already become singed and coated with soot.
A battered wooden crate is tucked along the northern wall. A pile of 2 dark-grey metal ingots is near a heavy anvil. A pile of 4 dark-grey metal ingots has been placed near a heavy anvil. An earthenware vinegar jug is on a shelf along the northern wall. (x2) An iron-banded wooden pail is near the northern wall, smelling of vinegar.
A towering, bearded blacksmith is standing near a dark sizeable iron forge. A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is standing near a heavy anvil, wielding a heavy forging hammer in his right hand and an impeccable iron pair of forging tongs in his left hand.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: out: wooden gate (open)
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts an impeccable iron pair of forging tongs on a heavy anvil.
You have emoted: Aizana slips in through the gate, then pauses to peer through the rain towards the sheltered forge.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is in the process of having just set down a pair of forging tongs, some freshly-formed ingots resting on the anvil in front of him. He eyes you at her arrival through the gate, and dips his head. "Good afternoon," [in Ruvic with a calm and quiet bass-baritone] he calls out, pleasant of tone.
You have emoted: After that noticeable pause, Aizana shakes the rain lightly from her cloak as she moves further into the shack, finally lowering her hood as she nears a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
You lower the hood of an undyed light woolen cloak.
You have emoted: Aizana blinks her strange amber eyes slowly at a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, then says quietly, "Hello." [in Ilexi with a softly scratchy mezzo-soprano]
A lit sizeable iron forge burns on in a bright dance of oranges and yellows.
Once you lowers that hood, a look of recognition appears in a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's honey-brown eyes. He looks suddenly more tense, something about his posture, yet that begins to relax after a few seconds. "Hello," he says, though with a trace of unease in his voice. "I'm glad you've come." [in Ilexi]
You have emoted: Aizana stares at a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair for several moments, while the light from the forge plays oddly across her face and deepens the shadows below her eyes. "Are you?" she asks, then adds in a murmur mostly to herself, "I wonder."
After another much shorter pause, you ask, "What would you speak to me of, Yasin of Alheri?"
The last of the water on you dries away, leaving you fully dried off.
You sniff the air.
It smells like... vinegar from an iron-banded wooden pail.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair remains silent for a few seconds after that self-murmur from you. He lets out a held breath, as if in that breath trying to gauge some answer to that murmur. But when you next speaks he is quick to reply. "Matters of what we spoke of last time. I have learned things. Where can we speak?"
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair slides his forging hammer away from a heavy anvil and puts it into a pouch at his apron. He grabs a cloth and starts to brush away some excess slag from the anvil's surface.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts a heavy forging hammer in a heavy, soot-stained leather apron.
The boisterous warmth of a lit sizeable iron forge grants a steadfast crackling presence.
You have emoted: Aizana shifts her gaze around measuringly, seeming to assess and weigh each feature of the blacksmith's shack, before letting out a small sigh. With some regret, she says, "We should return to the shop, I suppose."
You have emoted: Aizana says softly, "This is a good and honest place, but even here some might overhear, or venture in on what they should not."
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair watches you search around the workshop while he cleans up his workspace. His brow raises lightly as you gives that sigh. He nods and says, "This is an honest place, yes. You are correct. But..." Curiosity in his voice, he asks, "...you do not wish to return to your shop?"
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair picks up a pile of 4 dark-grey metal ingots from the floor.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair approaches a battered wooden crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair opens the pegged lid of a battered wooden crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts a pile of 4 dark-grey metal ingots in a battered wooden crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair approaches a heavy anvil.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair picks up a pile of 2 dark-grey metal ingots from the floor.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair approaches a battered wooden crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts a pile of 2 dark-grey metal ingots in a battered wooden crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gets out a beautiful iron rod from a coal-stained sack in his possession.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair closes the pegged lid of a battered wooden crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts a beautiful iron rod on a battered wooden crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair busies himself after that question finishing his cleaning, his last duty apparently snuffing the flame from a lit sizeable iron forge. He still watches you as he does these things, occasional glances looking back.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts out a lit sizeable iron forge.
You have emoted: Aizana makes a sharp dismissive gesture with one hand. "It is of no matter. The shop is the safest place to be." She pauses/, somewhat uncertainly/. "It is hard for people to listen in, at least."
You have emoted: Having made this decision, Aizana begins to fidget lightly with her cloak and cast glances back towards the street, as if anxious to be away.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair looks up from the burn pot, having closed a chamber allowing air, the fire there slowly dying, the coal in the forge beginning to die to a simmer. He nods to you and seems to accept that answer. "Very well." He tosses a cloth into a pile nearby, and wipes his hands down the length of a heavy, soot-stained leather apron. "Let us go, then." He dips his head, and makes to move alongside you.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair falls in with you.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair closes the riveted strap of a heavy, soot-stained leather apron.
You approach a battered wooden crate and shift closer to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
(Hidden) You whisper to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, "*They* do not come into town, I think, but their agents could be anywhere."
You have emoted: Aizana abruptly flips her hood back up to cover her head, and tugs it forward to put her face in shadow.
(Hidden) A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nods to you after a moment. He says nothing, but his eyes convey understanding. And trepidation.
You raise the hood of an undyed light woolen cloak.
You walk out of an open, thatch-roofed stone structure through the wooden gate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks out of an open, thatch-roofed stone structure through the wooden gate, with heavy footfalls.
You walk east.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks over from the west, with heavy footfalls.
* * * * *
You walk east.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks over from the west, with heavy footfalls.
A freckled guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
[St Loomis, Beacon Row]
Pitted with muddy holes, the paths that wind between squat yet tottering tenement houses are barely wide enough for a single cart, let alone a wagon. The fractious cries of babies come intermittently through cracked windows, and most of the thatched roofs here are visibly in need of repair. One structure on the north side of the road looks much more solidly built than the others, with well-laid stone walls and a flagstone stoop leading up to an almost menacingly substantial oak door.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is here.
Warm rain falls steadily from overcast skies. A trace element of moldy thatch drifts about.
Cardinal Exits: west and east
Other: a well-built stone shop: heavy oak door (closed)
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair watches you walk, wrinkles at his youthful brow showing thought. His eyes follow at each peer of a corner, each scan of a street.
You have emoted: Aizana squints cautiously at a well-built stone shop for a moment before looking down at the muddy road.
You carefully look over the area.
2: Tracks made by some mahogany suede khuffs come from the west.
You approach the closed heavy oak door.
You open the heavy oak door.
You walk into a well-built stone shop through the heavy oak door.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks into a well-built stone shop through the heavy oak door, with heavy footfalls.
You approach the frame of the open heavy oak door.
You close the heavy oak door.
[St Loomis, Aizana's Rare and Recovered Goods]
Packed with shelves and cases and tables full of the most miscellaneous hodgepodge of goods, this small pawnshop is nevertheless almost rigidly martial in its upkeep, as if determined to hold at bay the disorder beyond its stacked stone walls. The floor is as spotless as hard-packed earth can be, with a rectangle of faded purple carpet laid out at a crisp perpendicular between the door and the scrupulously neat front counter. A beaded curtain covers a narrow opening on the east wall, the straight lines of its beads and shellwork not daring to tangle in this sternly regimented atmosphere.
A chipped glass case sits just beside the front counter. A deep wooden tray is near a curtained opening. A set of three long shelves is affixed to the back wall. A small side table stands against the west wall. A wobbly clothes rack is pushed against the west wall.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is here.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: a curtained opening and out: heavy oak door (closed)
Rain falls on a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's face, but he doesn't seem to mind it. He enters the shop behind you, damp of hair.
You have emoted: Shutting the door quickly behind her, Aizana pauses to simply stand and listen. But there doesn't seem to be anything to hear but the muted patter of droplets on thatch, and the whoosh of the rainfall outside.
You walk through a curtained opening.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks over from through a curtained opening, with heavy footfalls.
[St Loomis, Aizana's Rare and Recovered Goods, Private Quarters]
This room to the side of the shop clearly functions as the proprietor's living quarters, simple though they are. A pair of pallets lie on the floor on opposite sides of the room, and a very solid oak table occupies the middle of the space. Beneath it stretches a faded purple carpet, twin both to the one in the shop and another hung on the north wall. Across from the beaded curtain, a little oil painting of a misty forest adds an oddly genteel accent to the room.
Also here is a snotty little child. A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is here.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: a curtained opening
The shabby scene of Beacon Row is visible through a window on the south wall.
You have emoted: Aizana gives a small somber nod to a snotty little child, almost as if she were acknowledging a sentry.
You approach the closed rug-draped door.
You unlock a substantial iron lock in the rug-draped door while it is closed.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair follows you in a patient sort of silence, his eyes flitting around the shop. They land on a snotty little child, then at the deep-set window -- where they darken for a moment.
You open the rug-draped door.
You walk through the rug-draped door.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks through the rug-draped door, with heavy footfalls.
You approach the frame of the open rug-draped door.
You close the rug-draped door.
[St Loomis, Aizana's Rare and Recovered Goods, Storeroom]
Set in back of the living quarters, this room heavily cluttered with an assortment of furniture and smaller items that are difficult to make out in the gloom. Although it now presumably serves as storage for the shop, a filled-in window on the back wall as well as an elaborate iron chandelier hung from the ceiling suggest a different function in bygone days. Amidst the dusty chaos of trunks and sheet-draped chairs, a pallet lies draped in shadow. Here is a woven wicket basket.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is here.
Cardinal Exits: south: rug-draped door (closed)
You lock a substantial iron lock in the rug-draped door.
You have emoted: Aizana's shoulders lower a little as she achieves the dim safety of the storeroom, though saying they actually relax would require an optimistic exertion of imagination. She seems to study each darker patch of shadow in the room for a time, then turns to look at a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair again.
You lower the hood of an undyed light woolen cloak.
Still quietly, you ask, "Well, Yasin of Alheri? What news do you have? What new trouble?"
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair lets out a held breath once you lowers her hood. At the questions, his jaw shifts, and then he begins to speak. "If the *Them* we seek is the same, I have a name, and an... object that this woman has created that I'd like you to examine."
(At the southward direction): You have emoted: Aizana's breath catches briefly in her throat, but she remains quite still, her gaze fixed on a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's face. For a moment it almost seems she doesn't dare to speak, but then she asks, more softly and breathlessly still, "Yes?"
Tension is laced in his tone as a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair continues, as he rubs a soot-stained hand idly through dampened hair. "She frequents two locations in the woods. One, a... grouping of strange stones that I have only been to once. To the west, not far from the lumber yard. And, two... an abandoned cottage north of the town."
At your lowered voice and caught breath, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes a few steps closer. Probably to better hear, or so that he may lower his voice himself.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair goes to stand near the closed rug-draped door, joining you.
(At the southward direction): "Her name is Elina." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says quietly to you. "Or at least, that is the name she chooses to use." With a simmering anger, heat now entering his tense words, "And she has... threatened more of my friends."
You have emoted: Aizana's lips move soundlessly, shaping Elina's name without actually giving it voice. Her eyes have grown wider with a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's information, and taken on a strange light that seems both excited and afraid.
(At the southward direction): You have emoted: Aizana fidgets with her shawl in agitation as she asks a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, "What threats has she made?"
(At the southward direction): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair studies your expression. His own is some measure of anger, contemplation and an uneasy tension to the way he's standing. Tension wins out as you asks that question. "To one, she encountered him in the woods and threatened to harm something he holds dear to him. She taunted him and claimed he should not wander the woods, for wolves roam them. She then howled like a wolf... a sick joke on her part." This last bit, he mutters in annoyance.
(At the southward direction): You have emoted: An odd expression twists its way across Aizana's face, discomforted and bemused, yet touched with a hint of anger.
You're not sure whether anyone notices you.
(At the southward direction): "The other..." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says, anger making way for something sadder, a deep sigh leaving his burly form. "...she has ensnared a friend of mine, with promises that she can dispatch the mists and free us all. My friend, who I... thought I could trust, believes her. And does not care for the harm that this woman has brought upon us." A deep disappointment joins sadness in these last words.
(At the southward direction): You have emoted: Aizana murmurs softly, "I see. I see..."/ There is an obscure note of anger in her voice, and her eyes./ She shakes her head slowly. "*They* would make many promises, I am sure. To ensnare and entrap, and bring themselves further power."
(At the southward direction): You mutter, "This woman would fear more, if there truly were wolves about."
(At the southward direction): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nods his head in a somber agreement. "She *does* fear some. The Mistwatch. She has not explained why, but claimed to my entrapped friend that they 'hunt' her kind." His jaw shifts again. "I do not know more than that, the why, the history."
(At the southward direction): "I am... considering writing to them." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair then admits to you. "But this woman is *dangerous*. She has concocted a strange drug to keep my friend... dependent. I wanted you to examine it, to see if you sense anything about it. But... do not taste it." His hand moves to his apron, but he waits before producing anything.
(At the southward direction): You have emoted: Aizana frowns in thought, seeming to consider a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's information. "The Mistwatch," she mutters. "They are a bulwark against some evils. Perhaps they are against *them*, too. Though clearly not at all a perfect one."
(At the southward direction): "Not perfect, no." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says in agreement to you. With a shake of his head he mutters, "Sometimes I think them nearly as clueless as me, though I... hope that isn't the case."
You have emoted: Aizana's eyebrows leap sharply upwards, and her focus snaps back onto a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair. "A drug? You have something she has touched? Made?"
(At the southward direction): "Yes." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says to you, taken out of his muttered distraction. His fingers hesitate near his apron. "It is on my person, in a box. Closed."
(At the southward direction): You have emoted: Aizana's fingers begin to twitch at the folds of her shawl, though her eyes never leave a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's own. "Show me," she urges in a low but intense voice.
(At the southward direction): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair seems to hesitate a moment further after that intense urge from you. He swallows and says, "I will, but be *very* careful with this. Do not ingest it. And I do not know if even holding this gives the woman some... knowledge. Power."
(At the southward direction): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's hand disappears underneath his apron, where he loosens the drawstring to a pouch that is only partially visible.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair opens the rawhide drawstring of a discreet leather satchel.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gets out a small wooden box from a discreet leather satchel in his possession.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair offers a small wooden box to you.
(At the southward direction): You have emoted: Aizana says in a voice both low and hard, "I know how careful we need to be." Her tone darkening, she adds, "And if *she* can know something by holding it, so can I."
You accept a small wooden box from a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
You have emoted: Despite her evident determination to receive this item, Aizana simply holds the box in the palm of her hand for a moment, with a gingerness that seems to border on revulsion.
(At the southward direction): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair produces a small wooden box from this covered pouch, and hands it over to you. A twitch of a muscle in a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's neck shows how tense he is, but he nods in acceptance of your declaration as the box is handed over.
Aizana stares at the box for a while longer, then abruptly turns and moves further back into the storeroom, dropping down to sit on a soft and shabby pallet. (Sit - on a soft and shabby pallet -)
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair turns his head as you moves to the pallet. He follows at a slow, hesitant pace, and remains standing nearby. (Stand - near a soft and shabby pallet -)
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair seems to be keeping an eye on you.
You have emoted: Holding the box delicately in the palm of one hand, Aizana very carefully opens the lid with the other.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair now focuses his attention on you and on the box, watching with an intense interest of his own, tinged with apprehension.
You have emoted: Aizana stares into the box, her gaze unfocusing a little. Some of the tension seems, strangely, to slide away from her as a preternatural calm appears to come over her.
You put down a small wooden box near a soft and shabby pallet.
You get out a small smoky crystal sphere from a black cotton drawstring pouch in your possession.
You have emoted: Slipping a small smoky crystal sphere out of her pouch, Aizana holds it out in her palm a short ways over the box that she's just placed on the floor. She holds that position for a time, gaze seemingly fixed on nothing much at all.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair watches in silence, even seemingly stilling his breath to as slow and quiet as possible, though who knows if this is done consciously or not. His eyes flit between the sphere and your strangely calm comportment.
You have emoted: Aizana's eyelids sink mostly closed, but her hand and wrist begin to move, and the crystal sphere with them. Looking as if it's suddenly slipped the bounds of Avaria's gravity and found a new center in the Rovara woman instead, the sphere rolls over the back of her hand, down to her fingers, across her palm and partly up her wrist, then back down in another circuit which seems incredibly to cling her own flesh rather than falling.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's lips part and his eyes widen in an abject surprise that he does not hide. A momentary intake of breath, which a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair then attempts to still as he watches on and stares now quite fully at that sphere.
You have emoted: Aizana keeps this up for a quite some time without once ever even looking at the crystal, but then it suddenly rolls back to a halt in the palm of her hand again, and she slowly opens her eyes. She stares distantly into its depths, luminous and shadowy at once.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's mouth remains agape even as the crystal returns to its 'proper' position. He blinks, for the first time since the crystal moved. Then he remembers himself and his mouth closes. He stays silent.
As distantly as her gaze, you say, "She is one of *them*. One of those who slide through time and space as easily as a snake slides through dead leaves. Stone shudders as she passes, and the stars scream. They are here now, and they are here then, and they are here in the then that has not happened yet."
As you speaks, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair listens -- focused completely, now. Whatever distraction was in his eyes at the strange movement of the crystal is gone. He shifts to a kneel beside a soft and shabby pallet, as if to focus even further on your words. (Kneel - beside a soft and shabby pallet -)
You have emoted: Still sounding as if she's relaying a message from outside of time, Aizana goes on, "This one has been here before too. She knows this land and its secrets. She knows the secrets of life and death. She knows.. she knows..." Some powerful emotion twists across Aizana's face, and beads of sweat suddenly start out on her brow.
You have emoted: Aizana struggles to go on, but the words seems to choke her in her throat. "She knows... knows *us*." The emotion on her face becomes all too obvious as it takes over her voice as well. "She.. knows! She knows who we are! She knows.. *what*--!"
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes widen further and now fear begins to make itself known on a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's broad face as you continues. His eyes flit to those beads of sweat. His fingers twitch, as if ready for some sort of action -- but what? He does nothing. He remains, and watches, and listens.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): Fear turns to alarm as a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair watches you. His fingers twitch again, as if trying to decide whether to intervene in this.
You have emoted: A whimper straggles out of Aizana, which half form themselves into unintelligible words in some strange language. She makes a horrible choking, gagging noise, as if she had a fishbone stuck in her throat, and then her eyes abruptly roll back in her head.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gasps.
Darkness surrounds your vision, and the sounds around you echo distantly in a dizzying roar. Suddenly, everything fades away.
(Beyond your dream world): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gasps in horror, and not knowing what to do, he snatches the box from the pallet and shuts it closed immediately.
(Beyond your dream world): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair picks up a small wooden box from the floor.
(Beyond your dream world): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair closes the lid of a small wooden box.
Feeling and awareness begin to return. You get the sense that you could wake up now.
You wake up, lying near a soft and shabby pallet.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): "Aizana," a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair murmurs softly. "Aizana, are you alright?" He stows the box away, putting it out of sight and mind. He places a hand next to your face, as if to study your pulse.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts a small wooden box in a discreet leather satchel.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's hand hesitates awkwardly when you twitches, and it just hangs there in the air.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair shifts closer to you, as he has moved closer by this point.
You have emoted: Aizana's eyelids flutter slowly open, and for a time she stares at nothing at all. Then some real awareness begins to flicker back into her eyes, the amber of her gaze deepening as a shadow of fear passes over them.
(Hidden) You whisper, "Dear Lady of the dark moon..."
(Hidden) "Aizana." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair whispers to you, the name catching briefly in his throat, before he continues. "Can you hear my voice? Are you alright?"
You have emoted: Aizana pushes herself upright, shaking noticeably as she does so. She doesn't look at a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, but instead fixes on a small smoky crystal sphere which has somehow remained in her hand all this time.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair shifts slightly backward and drops his hand to his side as you up-rights herself.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Instead of answering, Aizana asks instead, "They are here, aren't they." Her voice is very quiet indeed now, and hold a note of marveling and fear. "They.. are real."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): "Here?" a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair asks. He looks about the storeroom. "In this room? With us, now?" Fear, abject, vivid, creeps into his tone.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana gives a small jerk of alarm, her own eyes darting about the room. But then her gaze comes back to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, and she gives a small jerky shake of her head. "Not.. not *right* here. But.. here, in this land."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair noticeably relaxes as you produces that clarification. He looks back, then nods in understanding. His hand had crept its way to a black leather scribing case, but it now relaxes back to his side.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): "You weren't sure if they were real?" a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair asks, his tone gentler now.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana's breathing comes shakily, and she gives an ambiguous shake of her head. "Everyone said.. said that they were not. That there was no *they*. That it was only.. my imagining."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana swallows. "Imagining meaning where there was none. Imagining patterns out of what was simply blind fortune."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair lets out a deep breath, some tension easing from his body. He gives a slow nod to you. "You doubted yourself," he says gently. "But I do not think you were wrong, no. There is... too much going on. And you now see her direct touch, on something tangible."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You mutter, "They would tell me that I was just not resigned to the dream that the Dreamer had dreamed for me. That I had no faith."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): For some reason, this comment in particular brings a flash of anger into a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes. Not at you -- he does not direct that flare towards her. At something else. He mutters, "Who are they to tell us what the Dreamer has laid out for our own paths. That is for us to know. Not for others to tell us."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana A hint of bitterness tugs at her mouth, but she mostly looks exhausted./ And scared./ Shaking her head slowly, she says, "Perhaps."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): That flare dies away as a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair regards you. He asks, "Are you... alright?"
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana raises her hand to stare more closely at a small smoky crystal sphere again, but it appears utterly quiescent now, its depths as dim as the room around it. A little laugh escapes her, the sort that hints as much at hysteria as humor. But she simply says, "No. No, I am not all right. But that is.. all right."
Mouth firming into a thin line, you say, "I will need to see... these stones. And.. perhaps other places. But... not now."
You shudder.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's jaw shifts in an uneasy sort of way and he nods to your answer. "I... do not claim to understand what you just experienced. But I am sorry, to have brought that... upon you."
Lowering her gaze, you say, "It is nothing for you to be sorry for. And still... I do not know what *they* are. Who. Only that..."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair continues, "I do not know how much time we have before this Elina strikes." Another sighed breath. "She is trying to take something of ours. I am trying to keep it from her. But when you are ready to see the stones... let me know. Seek me out."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair quiets at your lowered gaze and those words. He listens.
You have emoted: Aizana swallows again, and she looks a little ill. "They will be looking. For us." There seems to be a strange significance in that 'us', and she shivers again. "I.. don't know what they want with you. And your friend."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana shifts her gaze over to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, her face pale. "What is it she is trying to take?"
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's breath stills for a moment at your swallow, and those words. His jaw shifts again.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): "I promised the person who it belongs to that I would not share this knowledge, so *today* I cannot tell you." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says to you with a sigh. He sounds disappointed in this admittance. "But I did ask them to consider it further. I only know that it is something... odd. That we do not understand, and as much as we do not understand it, I think it is even worse if this woman were to get her hands on it. And she *very* much seems to want it."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana states flatly, "Then it is a thing of great power, or great peril, and she must not have it."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nods to you. "In this, we are aligned."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana lets out another shaky breath and says, "You are wise to be cautious in what you say. Even to me. Even allies can betray one another by some slip or error." She licks her lips, adding more softly, "But not by intent."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair swallows at this, and nods to you. "The one who is ensnared... I thought them an ally, once." His hand finds its way down to a smaller hammer at his apron-pouch, and he fidgets with it. "So I understand your meaning, and I... appreciate your words."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: With a last regretful look, Aizana slides a small smoky crystal sphere back into a black cotton drawstring pouch as she exhales in a quiet unsteady sigh.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana huddles a little into herself and says, almost plaintively, "I think.. I think I would like to rest. The Sight is.. it is.. draining."
(At a soft and shabby pallet): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair looks over you, then perhaps out of propriety's sake, or out of care, shifts back from the pallet. "Of course," he says as he does so. "I assume there is nothing I could fetch for you? Should I get Lucy, or would you prefer to be left alone?"
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair shifts away from you.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): You have emoted: Aizana shakes her head distractedly, as if she were already finding it hard to focus. "No. No, I will be-- I am fine. Oh."
You have emoted: Aizana frowns, seemingly to remember something, and then gets unsteadily to her feet.
You straighten to stand beside a soft and shabby pallet.
(At a soft and shabby pallet): "Sorry," a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair mutters, correcting himself. "You call her Velusiyan--" he cuts himself off at that 'Oh' from you, and he blinks. "Oh?"
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair straightens to stand beside a soft and shabby pallet.
You have emoted: The faintest ghost of an exhausted smile flits across Aizana's face. "You cannot walk through doors," she explains.
You approach the closed rug-draped door.
You unlock a substantial iron lock in the rug-draped door while it is closed.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes follow your movement to the door, and understanding clicks. "Ah," he mutters, then smiles in a similar, faint way. He shakes his head. "No. I cannot."
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair goes to stand near the closed rug-draped door, joining you.
You have emoted: Aizana adds, after a pause, as she stares at the key in her hand, "Velusiyen is her true name. But those who live in the cities, among strangers, tend to forget them." She sounds a little sad, in a quietly resigned way,.
(At the southward direction): "...Velusiyen." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says, correcting himself further and committing that to memory. He looks somber for a moment and says quietly, "Or sometimes we strip ourselves of our names."
(At the southward direction): "Thank you," a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair then says, dipping his head to you. His hand reaches for the door, but he doesn't open it yet. He says, "When you wish to see the... other things, seek me out. And if I learn anything further, I will leave our sketch."
With another smile, equally faint but sadder, you say, "She doesn't appreciate the reminder. But she receives it anyway."
You have emoted: Aizana nods to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, more briskly if still tiredly. "Yes. I will."
(At the southward direction): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives a nod to both of your statements -- a somber understanding to the first, and a determined one to the next.
(At the southward direction): "Be well," he then says to you, as a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair turns to open the door.
You have emoted: Aizana says quietly, "Dream well, and guard your dreams."
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is no longer following you.
You have emoted: Aizana inclines her head in a small, somber farewell.
(At the southward direction): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair hesitates, back turned to you at that statement. "...I will," he says without looking back. Though there's a note of uncertainty to the way he phrases that confirmation.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair opens the rug-draped door.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks away through the rug-draped door, with heavy footfalls.
You lock a substantial iron lock in the rug-draped door.
Aizana crosses slowly back over to the pallet and sinks down onto it with a shuddering sigh. She pulls herself into a little ball, head buried against her knees, and shivers. (Lie - on a soft and shabby pallet -)